from The Lost Canadian, Vol.2, Poems Selected… The Myth Of Liberation

You became the man
you always wanted to marry
I could not long for you
as the woman you tried to bury
Now there are no choices
open anywhere
in mangers or in stables

So you join the women’s club
with their venom to feel as one, among
the defeminised angels of love
abandoning even the sacred heart
you mean to carry in the dark
Perhaps forever, Joan of Arc
that would not still the many voices

©Dean J. Baker

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A Nation Of Lunatics … from DARK EARTH

The anhedonics have it; more pills,
loveless sex, booze and cash, all
forms of coping with the modern world.

Or athletics, politics, religion –
each interchangeable and dependent
upon the credulity of homo sapiens.

Enter the delusion of impending fame,
no less than cosmic significance, and
don’t forget the neighbors’ good opinion.

All this plus an ability to command
weather by temperament, along with
the omnipotent faculty of being bland.

Fueled by money and growing sophistication
as the level of education sinks:
the picture of a people who cannot think.

©Dean J. Baker

..from DARK EARTH.. ‘Widows’

Their heads are bent
By another death:
the unlovely child
you always knew too much about.
They are carrying themselves.

They are carrying themselves
With taunts of Spring.
Do you not see how
they drive:
to meet the grinning, opened mouth.

©Dean Baker

Cultural News

Cultural news of the day: Batman cacked, Isis attacked.

I #amwriting some great poems, but only I noticed.

Without alteration in these things –
whether I receive the Pulitzer Prize, or the Grand Slam
at that archetype of fine dining Denny’s – of
inverted totalitarianism where many fleas
attract unyielding attention to the minor
buzz and bite they and their
like contrive of architectural articulation –
describing exactly nothing in a unmemorable way

Of fake celebratory revelations enshrining deceit
and denial, while concealing
the approach of the creeping dead:
obviously our culture is poised for doom in this false dominion,
once again.

©Dean J. Baker

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from Of The Dominions Unleavened… ‘JUST’

Just because you have a voice
does not mean you have something to say
Just because the medium is available
does not mean you should use it
Because you can read does not mean
your understanding extends beyond the page

The only authority is not recognition since
lots of idiots recognize other fools:
they do not know they’re idiots, so
what could your excuse be in the baa-baabbling

Add to the cacophony, the rabble thrust
in hopes of being understand by overwhelming force
See, you too could be a numbskull

Perhaps right now you believe you’re thinking
well who do you think you are
how’d you get here, who supports this
and where is all your money and women, or men

Where’s the inviolable dignity
suggesting connections to the universe, greater
than the plague of miseries and toll-road joys
Show us, now

Refer please to the first words spoken here
do not search for an authority established by
successive morons establishing historical claims
through association of incestuous support

You are free and have nothing to defend any more
finally you can be honest and know truth
in all its variety and forms leading to no conclusion
beyond the quest for greater depths
of perception and the immediacy of storms

Familiarity with your own perspective
is an intellectual contempt for difference:
you bring nothing new to the table of consumption
by declaring your own fullness a completion of views

There is more to this than what you have
decided will be the end of everything already known
since you stuff your throat with syllables,
the limbs and parts of the body’s world in particular use

Your celebration is a discovery
of what you confide to yourself alone at night
without references to what might be achieved
by ones like yourself, or in the extreme, like me

©Dean J. Baker

– excerpt from  Of The Dominions Unleavened, 102 pages, $Check Amazon lower than ever..

These poems truly mark a radical departure from previous work in tone, scope, and vision.

 

from one of my latest books – ‘In Its Beginnings’ from Celestial Migrations In The Empire

Every time I show you who I am,
you set me on fire saying Ash is such
a wonderful camouflage against disguise

For the patient kind not seeking to surprise,
love is the ordinary task
of managing consciousness and fine things

With pliers against skin, that velvet sin
no more, you bring me nothing
in the chemical exchange of mysteries

Undefined in our new century, we
map the boundaries unexplored
and fittingly prepare for the next disappearance

To materialize at our door: soliciting
butterflies who applaud our heart,
minus the clumsy contraption of wings

© Dean J. Baker

-excerpt from Celestial Migrations In The Empire, 122 pages, $14.99 – support my work, support independent poets, buy a book – join me on my other social sites

 

‘Allegorical Imperatives’… from The Lost Canadian, Vol.1…PRINT 9.99, EBOOK 2.99

 

 

 

 

 

 

The wounded bears of this belated land,
trailing deceit, and a lingering death,
bore me with their appraisals of excellence.

Accomplices to culture still-born, these
picayune mediocrities forge no sense
of self: damage or display, apologists.

You do well to beware such politics;
domestic confederates, nationalist failures:
the talented, and their imitators.

Let them vanish into the forest deep, where
I have set up a meditation and a prayer:
forecasting sudden but true, and rare, transformation.

© Dean J. Baker

poems are posted to share, be shared, and entice those who love the work to owning the books from which the poems are excerpts

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